


Thawing a Frozen Heart

by C4t1l1n4



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fluff, Getting Together, Human Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, POV Eskel (The Witcher), Pining Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, barely edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C4t1l1n4/pseuds/C4t1l1n4
Summary: Eskel and Lambert get tired of Geralt’s pining and set out to do something about it.They might end up making it worse.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 299





	Thawing a Frozen Heart

Eskel is exhausted. 

The Killer doesn’t have that name for no reason, but the worst of the snow is behind him and he can’t wait to collapse in front of the fire in the main hall. It’s getting late into the winter, later than most dare to make the journey to the keep, but he’d been held up by one last contract on his way to Kaer Morhen, and now it’s getting cold, even for Witchers. 

Geralt and Lambert meet him at the gates, looking almost astonished at his arrival, but one glance at his current state has their mouths slamming shut. Vesemir will scold him later, he’s sure of it, but for now, Lambert grabs his arm and drags him inside, the stone walls of the keep blocking the harshness of the wind. Geralt takes his horse to the stables which Eskel is grateful for, unsure if he could even brave the steps to his room right now, let alone spend any more time outside in the snow. 

Lambert drops him on a pile of furs and adds a few more logs to the fire, the flames burning brighter with the added fuel. He looks uncharacteristically concerned for a moment, settling himself next to Eskel’s side. 

“Miss me that much?” Eskel manages through stiff muscles and frozen limbs. 

Lambert rolls his eyes and huffs, but relaxes at the playful words, reassured the other Witcher is fine. “You wish.” He snarks, shoving Eskel with his shoulder. “I didn’t miss you so much as want to bang my head in with Geralt’s pining.” 

Eskel raises an eyebrow, turning to face his brother with curiosity lining his frozen features. “Do tell.” 

Geralt takes the moment to enter the hall, snow dusting his hair and shoulders. Lambert’s gaze flickers from Eskel to Geralt, and back again. “Later.” He promises. 

Geralt gets to it before Lambert does as they share dinner that night. They get to eat once Vesemir has fully intoned how much of an idiot Eskel is for attempting the pass this late into the winter, even if it’s only a week or so later than everyone else, but he’s pulled into a quick hug afterward and can tell that their mentor is relieved that he doesn’t have to worry about his third cub being dead for months on end. 

“Still traveling with that bard?” 

The question comes up as the meal is winding down, and Lambert elbows Eskel in the side, encouraging him to pay attention. 

“Hmmm, yeah.” Geralt replies. “Annoying as ever.” 

Lambert snorts in laughter. Eskel waits, confused. Doesn’t sound like pining to him. 

“When you bringing him to the keep?” Lambert presses. “I’d love a song or two about me.” 

“Fuck off.” Geralt huffs. “As if Vesemir would let a human into the keep.”

“I’d appreciate a letter in advance,” Vesemir cuts in, “But if he’s traveled with you for this long, he’s welcome here.”

They’ve heard of the bard before, more so earlier on when he was a whiny, annoying human who had taken interest in following Geralt around the Path, and they had taken bets when he would get tired and leave. Here they are, 2 or so decades later, all surprised at his stubborn persistence. 

“Geralt doesn’t want to share him, I’ll bet.” Lambert snickers. It earns him a bread roll chucked at his head. 

“Where does he go for the winter then?” Eskel thinks aloud. “You don’t just abandon him at the base of the mountain, do you?” 

“Of course not.” Geralt sounds almost offended at the implication. “He’s a ridiculously talented bard with an even more ridiculous instrument. He goes to Oxenfurt. Teaches classes for the winter.” 

There's a moment of silence, and then very quietly, to quiet for a human to hear, like Geralt isn’t used to being around other Witchers, he mumbles. “Hope he made it okay.” Golden eyes flicker the to storm raging outside the window and he stands abruptly.

Maybe not pining, Eskel thinks, watching Geralt walk away, but there’s definitely something.

It gets worse as the winter months progress, and Eskel starts to see where Lambert got the idea of pining from. It goes from something funny to laugh and tease about to downright annoying by the time spring is in the air. Eskel has never been more ready to get out onto the path again. Geralt is much more sullen and grumpy and just pitiful without his bard, it’s become unbearable. Lambert and Eskel have decided that if they run into the bard out on the Path, they’ll invite him Kaer Morhen for next winter, and maybe even clue the bard into poor Geralt’s pinning. 

Eskel hugs his brothers goodbye and starts the trek down the mountain with a mission in mind. 

———  
He finally crosses paths with the bard in the late summer, who is entertaining at an inn while Geralt is out on a hunt. Eskel settles himself at a table and waits. 

“Not Geralt.” Someone comments, drawing his attention up from his meal. The music has stopped and Jaskier has made his way over to his table to investigate. Cornflower eyes flicker down to the medallion around his chest. “A Wolf Witcher though.” He sounds intrigued and makes himself at home in the seat next to Eskel. 

“Eskel.” He introduces himself. 

“Ahhh, the handsome one,” Jaskier replies as if he understands. He holds out his hand and Eskel, too stunned to respond, shakes it. 

“Uh, what?” He finally manages. 

“Oh, from what I have managed to squeeze from Geralt over our years of traveling together, he has two brothers. One of which is a prickly ass and the other is ruggedly handsome. Seeing as you haven’t started swearing at me yet, I’ll take it you’re the handsome one.” 

Eskel laughs. “Well, I don’t know about that, but you’ve certainly gotten Lambert’s description down pat.” 

“Of course! Although…” The bard trails off, contemplating. Eskel takes the moment to take another bite of his meal. “You’re probably after that Drowner contract?” 

Eskel nods, and Jaskier frowns. 

“That’s the contract Geralt’s currently on?” He guesses. 

“Yes. Sorry about that. Geralt says sometimes that bordering towns will post for the same thing.”

“It’s alright.” Eskel shrugs. “Plenty of other work around. Besides, it’s not every day you get to meet Geralt’s legendary bard.” He teases. 

Jaskier’s face flushes a strawberry pink as he stutters out a response. “Ah, well. It’s not that impressive.” He says, cornflower eyes dropping to the table. 

Eskel smiles. “Maybe I’d believe you if Geralt ever shut the fuck up about you.” 

Jaskier’s gaze jerks up to meet his, heart racing. “Nothing too bad, I hope.” 

The bard’s nervousness causes Eskel to laugh once more. “Are you kidding me? I spent three whole months listening to him pine like a teenage girl.” 

“As if.” Jaskier’s tone is bitter now, something Eskel wasn’t expecting. The playful atmosphere that had developed between them has suddenly soured. “He barely tolerates me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I annoy him, slow him down, cause him problems, and that’s just the beginning.” 

Eskel stares at the bard, who genuinely believes this, in disbelief. Is Geralt really that stunted. He knocks back his tankard of ale, draining it in one go. “But you like him, right?” 

“I wouldn’t have given the best years of my life if I didn’t.” He admits in a small voice. 

“Well then, how about this?” Eskel proposes, standing to his feet and motioning for Jaskier to follow him outside. Once he’s sure the bard is following he continues talking. “Keep in mind what I said, maybe even try to break through Geralt’s emotionally stunned dumbassery, and you have my official invitation to Kaer Morhen.” 

They stop by his horse, and he turns to find Jaskier staring at him like he’s just given him the world. 

“Really?”

“Of course. That is if Geralt hasn’t offered first.” 

Jaskier crosses his arms, the spark starting to fade from his eyes. 

“But, yes.” Eskel quickly continues. “If Geralt is still being an arse by Winter, come find me and you can come as my guest, no matter what Geralt says.”

“Thank you,” Jaskier says sincerely. 

Eskel pats him on the shoulder before mounting his horse. “See you in the Winter, Jaskier.” He says, then sets off for the next village. 

———  
Eskel is shopping in the town at the base of the mountain when he hears a familiar voice call his name from across the market square. He whirls around, squinting through the drizzle of the first snow, and spots Jaskier running towards him, wrapped in a thick turquoise cloak. The bard launches himself into Eskel’s arms, burying his face into his chest.

Eskel lets out a small laugh. “Hello, Jaskier.” 

“You beautiful man!” Jaskier exclaims, reaching up and planting a kiss on his cheek. Eskel stares back at him in surprise. 

“Should I be offended?” A dry voice asks, drawing their attention to where Geralt stands a few paces behind Jaskier, holding what is no doubt a lute in one of his hands.

“Of course not, love.” Jaskier grins, stepping away and over to Geralt to take his beloved instrument back. “But I haven’t seen your brother since the summer you see, and I think I owe him a song or five and-“

Eskel cuts him off. “Love?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and looking over at Geralt. 

“Oh, yes!” Jaskier chimes in again. “That was the point, you see. Because I finally talked to him about it and we got together in the fall, not just but a few months ago. Oh, Geralt! We should have a fall wedding. We couldn’t go back to my home, of course, but maybe at Kaer Morhen or-“ 

“Jaskier.” Geralt huffs, cutting off his lover’s ramblings. “Shut up.” 

The bard huffs playfully, crossing his arms, but he’s quickly drawn under the edge of Geralt’s cloak, the Witcher tucking him neatly against his side. Jaskier doesn’t hesitate to make himself comfortable, and Geralt plants a kiss on his frozen chestnut hair. 

Eskel watches them with something akin to akin dread growing in his stomach. Watching Geralt pine was terrible, but watching him be disgustingly sweet with his bard might be even worse. 

“So, are we traveling together?” Jaskier asks, cornflower eyes flickering between Geralt and Eskel. 

“If Eskel wants to.” 

When they get to Kaer Morhen, he needs to warn Lambert about the consequences of their meddling. They might’ve made a mistake.


End file.
